


Icarus

by wildglitterwolf



Series: Sunday Boy [2]
Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Break Up, Fear of Discovery, Finally Admitting Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, sorta love triangle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22157104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildglitterwolf/pseuds/wildglitterwolf
Summary: Rick and Cliff finally get together and are trying their best to keep their relationship a secret in Italy. But between meeting Francesca and a major slip-up, both of them know that the clock is running out on what little time they actually got to have together.
Relationships: Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton, Fransesca Capucci/Rick Dalton
Series: Sunday Boy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594867
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> So I wanted to do a companion piece to Sunday Boy of what Cliff was doing while he was away for that year, but I started to have more Italy flashbacks than I planned and thought it was best to just give Italy it’s own story first. It’s the same timeline as Sunday Boy but I think this can stand alone for the most part.

“Cliff, stop ogling my co-star.”

Cliff flashed Rick a grin. “Why? Jealous?”

“No. Just figured you’d be gazing at women less now that you’re getting laid.”

“Says the one I’m doin’ it with so yeah, sounds like you’re jealous.” 

Rick shakes his head as they just finished up talking to the director of _Red Blood, Red Skin_ , Joaquin Romero Marchent, since Rick wanted to introduce Cliff to him to make sure he was allowed to stunt. He was starting to feel fortunate that he was continuing to pick up films in Italy because not only did it help his ego, it also allowed him to keep this thing with Cliff going as well. Both men deep down knew that as soon as that opportunity well dries up, this relationship would be getting a hard look at before heading back to America, and it won’t be a pretty evaluation. While Rick wasn’t a high profile enough celebrity, any sniff about anyone possibly being a faggot, let alone with their fucking _stunt double_ , would be a tabloid’s wet dream. 

But even in Italy before this whole relationship started getting serious, Rick was starting to get attention, and he absolutely fucking loved it. And of course, PR thought it was best to give the paparazzi something to play with. He started appearing with his _Nebraska Jim_ co-star, Daphna Ben-Cobo, in public more frequently and everyone ate them up. But if anyone paid attention, they’d notice that the two would barely talk to or even touch each other when there wasn’t a camera around. Cliff of course noticed right away. 

“Do you really like being put through this charade, man? You don’t look the slightest bit interested in her.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why the hell do it? At least find someone you wanna fuck so you don’t have to pretend.” 

Rick laughs as he starts on his fifth drink, all curled up on one end of the couch in his robe. Let’s just say if wasn’t a great day on set and he was planning to drink until he forgets. “Well that won’t happen. None of these ladies interest me. Too… goddamn loud. Goddamn demanding.”

“So you need a more quiet and reserved type who puts your needs above their own.”

“Yeah, shit. Sure. That sounds great. Fuck, could you just grab me the damn bottle? Don’t wanna keep getting up.”

Cliff obediently goes to grab two just in case as he makes his way back. “Well if I didn’t know any better, I sound like your dream wife.”

“Heh. Holy shit. You would make an amazing wife. Goddamn.” Rick is giving the stupidest drunk grin to Cliff as he takes the bottle and just starts drinking straight from it. Cliff was wondering if Rick realized what he just said and needs to erase it from his mind so Cliff doesn’t think he means it. 

“Always thought I would. At least for you.”

Rick starts chugging at this point. He’s noticed lately Cliff’s filter has been almost non existent since they arrived in Italy. Well, at least worse than usual. He’s always wondered if maybe he did like him as more than just his friend, but Rick thought maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part. Rick admitted to himself years ago, even when Cliff was still married, that he’d never find a more satisfying relationship with a life partner than the one he had with Cliff and Rick hated himself for it. 

“I-I-I’m gonna g-go to b-bed…” But Rick couldn’t bring himself to move, be it he was too incapacitated or wanted to know what would happen next, he wasn’t sure. 

Cliff reaches over and tugs Rick’s hair out of place so it falls to cover the side of his forehead. “Always preferred your hair like this. Messy instead of perfect. Add when you’re flushed from drinking and I like to think this is what you look like during sex.”

Rick’s eyes slowly widen and jaw drops as he tries to comprehend that Cliff really just said that. 

“And that’s your orgasm face.”

“Fucking hell, Cliff. Y-you need to get l-laid, you’re saying ridiculous shit because you haven’t in a-awhile.”

“You want to help me with that?”

“I-I guess. Guess I could ask around for a-a red light district or something.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Of course Rick knew that wasn’t what he meant. But this could all be a trick. Or he was dreaming. Yeah, that’s it. A drunken dream. He reaches over to pinch his arm to make sure it is but stops short. “You know what? Fuck it, I’ve waited too long. I’ll find out if it is by tomorrow.”

“Hmm? Find out wh-“ But it was Cliff’s turn for his eyes to widen as Rick grabs him and gives him a kiss that felt like it was backed up by years of pent up desire just waiting for release. 

And Rick did find out the next day it wasn’t a dream when he woke up in the morning to find Cliff passed out on top of him and a suspicious lack of clothes in the vicinity. And now two movies later here he was, in as steady a relationship as two guys trying to keep it under wraps could get. Sure the constant paranoia that someone could just read his thoughts and out him or that Cliff might say or do some stupid public display of affection plagued him, but other than that, he never felt so complete. 

“Well looks like your co-star I’m not allowed to appreciate the beauty of is coming this way,” Cliff says as he makes himself comfortable in the chair next to Rick and lights up a cigarette. 

“Uh huh. Fucking behave yourself, alright? You come off like such a creep at times.”

Cliff shrugs as he sinks in his chair and takes a drag, smirking as the woman approaches. “Bawnjorno, little lady.”

The woman wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Please tell me you are not Rick Dalton.”

“No, no, that would be me, ma’am. Sorry about this prick, here. H-he’s gonna be leaving soon, aren’t you, Cliff?”

Cliff just shrugs, suddenly not liking how Rick was being all friendly with her. Even he was surprised at his own reaction. 

“Well I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Francesca.” She takes the initiative and sticks her hand firmly out first to shake, giving off the energy that she could hold her own against them. Rick looks a little surprised while Cliff quirks an eyebrow. “What? Is this not what you Americans do?”

“Oh, umm, yes. Yes, it is.” Rick smiles and shakes her hand while noticing out of the corner of his eye that Cliff was suddenly sitting up much straighter in attention. “So, uh… g-guess we got some scenes t-together. You being my love interest and all.” Rick could have sworn he heard what sounded like a soft dog growl coming from Cliff’s direction although Cliff’s expression did not physically change. 

“Ah yes, this was what I wanted to ask you about. Would you like to rehearse with me later tonight? I feel if we built up a chemistry it would make the scenes more believable.”

“He’s busy tonight.” 

Rick turned in confusion towards Cliff. “Huh? No, no I don’t have anything? Do I?”

“I’m making dinner. Been preparing all week for it.”

“Oh well, we can move that to tomorrow. Sure, hon, I’m free tonight.”

Francesca watched this whole exchange trying to read what was going on. “You two live together? Like a couple?”

“What?!? N-n-no, no, uh, h-he isn’t that well off so we are just sharing a place while we are over here. And he’s kinda like my personal assistant, d-does everything for me. Including cooking. R-right, Cliff?”

Cliff found himself lock in a staring match with Francesca, both their eyes narrowed as if trying to read each other. Rick was suddenly terrified Cliff would blurt out the truth just to fuck with her. 

“Right. Of course. Well, I guess I should be getting on home then.” Cliff takes one last drag before tossing his cig away and leaves the set without another word. 

—

“So how was your date?”

“Goddamnit, Cliff. Don’t be like that. It’s just part of our job, alright?”

Cliff was lying on the couch watching television, eating whatever snacks he found lying around. “Fine. You hungry? I could still make us dinner.”

“N-no, we ate. And Jesus, Cliff. It’s nearly nine and you haven’t eaten?” Rick watches Cliff just hold up a box of crackers and shakes it in response. “That’s it? Come on, make yourself something or I will.”

“Is that so? Go ahead.”

Rick wasn’t sure why he was expecting a different outcome to his offer, but he couldn’t take it back. He knew Cliff was by no means amazing at cooking but Cliff at least could feed himself. Luckily he found some bread and enough deli meat to at least fill it out nicely. “Here. Eat.”

Cliff sighs and takes it. “Look, man. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me today. One moment I was fine and the next I was… well…”

“Jealous?”

“Heh. Yeah. Guess I was.” Cliff sits up and moves to one side of the couch to make room for Rick before starting in on his sandwich. Meanwhile Rick decided to take the length of it and puts his head on Cliff’s lap, staring up at him. 

“You know. This w-won’t last much longer. Can’t live like this back at home. Seems we fucking can b-barely get away with it here.”

“Right,” Cliff mumbles with his mouth full as he goes in for another bite. Rick would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued with watching the way Cliff ate at times. 

“Please understand, Cliff. N-no matter wh-what happens. You’ll always be my number one, alright? No one is g-gonna replace you as the person I care most about. Promise you won’t fucking forget that?”

There was something about the way Rick said this that made him feel the inevitable breakup was looming closer than anticipated. And while Cliff truly did believe Rick, that didn’t make it any less easier. “Alright. I promise.”

And Rick believe Cliff. Now he just had to figure out how to make things seem like they were before Italy. Cliff would still have to live at the trailer, of course. Can’t stay overnight, either. If Cliff wanted to come over it would have to be when some big event like a sports game or something he could use as an excuse. And they definitely would have to tone down their public appearances together. 

“Man. I can tell you’re overthinking this. Don’t worry about it for now, just live in the present while we have it.” Cliff starts petting Rick’s hair trying to get him to calm down before he sends himself into a panic attack. It doesn’t take long before Rick starts melting away at the touch that he’s almost purring. “Say, you’re hair is getting kinda long. Need me to find you a barber or something around here?”

“Nah, nah. Was thinking of growing it out.”

“Oh really? Decided to go for the hippie look, huh?”

“Fucking hippies, d-don’t you group me with them, Cliff. I-I know times are changing and all. They ain’t casting people wh-who look like me anymore, they’re casting these androgynous looking fucks. So can’t beat them, join them, I guess.”

“Or you’re just growing it out for me ‘cause you know I’d like it.”

Rick rolls his eyes as he pushes himself up. “Well, I need to go shower.” He gets off the couch and heads almost all the way down the hallway before coming back to peek his head out. “Are you fucking coming or what?”

If Cliff had a tail, he’d be wagging it. He gives Rick a huge grin and stuffs the last bit of sandwich in his mouth before eagerly jumping over the back of the couch and following suit. 

—

“Goddamnit, Cliff! You can’t touch me like that on set!” Rick was trying his best not to scream at him in case he drew more attention to his trailer. There was a look of fear on Cliff’s face; a look that Rick has never seen before on the other man which at least gave him comfort knowing Cliff is probably going to take this seriously. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, man. I fucked up, I didn’t know someone was there. I thought we were alone. I’m so fucking sorry.” Cliff just keeps rubbing his hand all around his face and neck not sure how to make it any clearer.

“I can’t fucking afford to pay off the entire fucking crew! You better hope th-that stage boy or whatever he was doesn’t say shit. Don’t fucking know since he doesn’t speak a damn word of English. Goddamnit.” Rick kicks the table that’s bolted to the floor harder than he should have as he falls back on the couch and grabs his foot. “FUCK!”

Cliff watches this breakdown not sure if he should move in to help or let Rick just get all the aggression out now. He’s done enough damage for one day. “I guess I should go.”

“Damn right, you should go. You being here alone with me ain’t gonna help, now is it?”

“No. Guess it won’t. Alright, you take care.” Cliff just nods and turns to exit the trailer. As soon as he shuts the trailer door, he turns around to find Francesca standing right there. “Woah. Where’d you come from?”

“I need to talk to Rick.”

“Any reason why? He’s not in the best mood at the moment.”

“None of your concern.”

“Huh.” _Oh fuck, she probably knows. Hell, she probably figured it out day one._ “Well. He’s all yours then. Just… take care of him, alright?”

Francesca doesn’t say anything as she marches right by him to knock on the door as Cliff walks away thinking about what he said. Deep down he could tell he’d be saying the same words in a different context sooner than later.

\---

“I’m going to propose to Francesca on set today.”

“Well. She is a lovely lady.”

“Cliff…”

“Get dressed. I’ll meet you at set.” 

Cliff closes the ring box, tosses it back in the drawer, and leaves the apartment without another word. He felt this day was coming sooner than later, ever since he fucked up a couple of weeks ago and the paranoia gripped both of them pretty hard. And then suddenly a week ago Rick was back to being lovely with him at home, more than this whole trip, if he was honest. It seemed like Rick had decided to do this proposal by then and wanted to give him one last amazing week together; Cliff didn’t know if he should be thankful or resentful for it.

By the time Cliff got out of wardrobe, he could see a small crowd gathered with some cheering going on. There was no need for him to see what was going on to know what was happening. But now, Cliff had to do something he never thought he’d have to do on set: act. Act like he was truly happy for the couple. Act like he wasn’t dying inside when he had to hug Rick in front of everyone to congratulate him in order to sell the story. Act like he was actually excited about being the best man. Just… act. 

_And this is why this pretty boy is a stunt double. Acting is fucking harder than it looks._

—

Cliff pretty much considered the break up official once they got to Spain to finish up the last bit of shooting for the movie. And he was sure Rick took him out to a public place to do it to avoid the confrontation alone. After all, this definitely wasn’t the kind of thing to overreact to in front of strangers. 

“Can’t afford me anymore my ass,” Cliff grumbles to himself as he leans against the wall, smoking away as he waited for his cue to switch out with Rick. _He knows I’d work for scraps. Hell, I’d sleep in his tool shed. I just need a roof and some fuel for me, Brandy, and the car and he gets an almost free caretaker._

But still, part of Cliff wanted to laugh about this whole situation. Nine years. Nine fucking years. So many missed opportunities that could have been had long ago now knowing feelings have been mutual for several years. Even if it was kept on the downlow, surely it would have turned out better slowly coming out instead of nearly a decade of repressed feelings only to burst in a way that was barely controllable. He felt just like that kid in that myth with the wings made of wax; he flew too close to the damn sun and now he was falling to his metaphorical death. How the fuck was he going to survive without Rick? Like, not just the emotional relationship but literally survive without that income?

Cliff finally takes a break from his pity party when his name is called. They still had this movie to finish and another one Rick got for them as well as Francesca. He estimated he had maybe a month left to figure it all out but until then, he had to just keep surviving as he always has. 

But despite all this, Cliff still lived at the apartment with Rick seeing as Francesca was gonna stay at her place until after the honeymoon, which for now meant only for the night before they head back to America. They more or less went back to their pre-Italy relationship of not acknowledging their feelings as if that would make this any better. But then again, Rick was barely home much as he tried to make as many appearances with his financée as he could to help feed this public image of him; just your average, normal, completely straight actor. 

Finally Rick took a few days off before the wedding once _Operazione Dyn-O-Mite!_ finished shooting only to just drink himself into a stupor each evening. Cliff knew it would be best not to let him do that the night before and tried to get him talking at least. 

“Big day tomorrow. Feeling excited?”

“Why do ya ask me shit you already know the answer to?”

“I dunno. Guess I’m trying to make you believe this is a good idea.”

“It’s the only thing that will work, Cliff. You get married, they go find someone else to speculate is a faggot.”

“That’s not a guarantee. You’re gonna have to be in character 24/7, and even then it still might not be enough.”

“I like her enough to make it work. Now let me just drink, alright? Fuck, why aren’t you joining me? I know you aren’t handling this any better.”

Cliff watches Rick take out the two largest glasses they have and start filling them to the brim. “I guess because it’s our last night as bachelors and I didn’t want it wasted on babysitting your drunk ass.”

“Oh yeah? Is that what you’ve been all this time, my f-fucking babysitter? Bet you’re g-glad you won’t have to waste your life doing that anymore now that I freed you from it.”

“Rick. Stop…”

“Or what, huh? Goddamnit, Cliff. I-I’m just as much of a man as you are. I-I can take care of myself and a w-woman. We’ll be fine without you. I’ll be fine with… with…” Rick can’t bring himself to finish that sentence as he starts downing his glass to avoid doing so. 

Cliff could tell what he was doing. The same thing you’d do to a loyal dog you needed to get rid of by throwing all the stones you can at it in hopes he’ll finally leave because that’s what’s best for him. But Cliff has had worse than words scar him. 

“Well if that’s how you want to spend the night, go ahead. I won’t stop you. Just don’t be drunk in the morning that you can’t be ready on time.” Cliff makes his way to the bedroom he’s been using since Rick proposed despite Francesca not being around. He decides to wait and see if Rick makes any attempt to come after him, but after an hour has passed he decides it’s just best that he turns in for the night. 

Cliff’s not sure when exactly Rick came in, but he woke up around two in the morning to the sound of soft snoring and the warmth of Rick spooning behind him. He couldn’t help giving a bittersweet smile knowing this would probably be the last time he’ll have this. But goddamn, he was going to stay awake and enjoy every last minute he could until he passes out again. 

—

While Rick was away on his honeymoon, he assigned Cliff the task of packing and cleaning up the apartment. Unfortunately, Rick had acquired nearly double what he brought with him overseas that Cliff had to sort what was necessary to bring back and what could be left behind that he knew Rick wouldn’t remember. As for himself, save for a couple new outfits, he didn’t have much to go through other than some small, sentimental items he kept from their ‘dates’. Mostly just wrappers and ticket stubs but there were a few Polaroids that would be damning evidence. Cliff knew it would be safest to destroy them but couldn’t bear to, and just ends up burying them deep inside a sock. 

Rick and Francesca barely acknowledge him when they came home late that night, laughing and reminiscing about their week. Cliff couldn’t tell if Rick was acting or he seemed genuinely happy, and while it hurt to see he wasn’t the reason if it’s the latter, he knew he’d rather see Rick be this way then the depressed drunk he spent nine years observing. And he thought maybe with that mature outlook on the situation, he’s finally excepted this fate.

The next day, Cliff spent the morning finishing the last bit of packing and started hauling the luggage downstairs while the other two went to breakfast. He made one last visual sweep of the apartment to make sure nothing was forgotten when Rick appeared through the door. 

“You’re back. Guess I should call the taxi then.”

“Francesca is downstairs doing just that. I told her to wait there once she’s done while I do one last check.”

“Already done. We can head on out.”

“Wait!” Rick quickly closes the door behind him Cliff can exit. “I-I-I don’t want this to end on you hating me.”

“I don’t. I never could. I hate the situation we’re forced to be in because we are told we aren’t allowed to be this way, but it’s in no way your fault.”

Rick’s eyes started to water as he grabbed him and hugged him tight, trying his best not to sob into his chest. “I hate this. I-I hate this s-so much. I want to go back to April and never leave. Just live it over and over until the end of time.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry, man. She’s gonna wonder what’s got you so upset.” Cliff pulls back from him a bit and wipes his tears with his thumb. “There. That’s my handsome cowboy, long hippie hair and all.”

“Oh shut up, it’s not that bad,” Rick says with a small laugh as he wipes his eyes some more trying to completely dry them. “Come on, we better go.”

“Hold on.” Cliff knew he shouldn’t. He knew he really, really shouldn’t. But he might never get to again as he takes Rick’s face in his hands as he gave him the best kiss he could to summarize their relationship this past decade, starting slow until it suddenly got hard before pulling away almost instantly. “There. One last souvenir from Italy. Don’t think it beats getting a wife but it’s all I got.”

Rick smiles as he squeezes Cliff’s hands. “No, no it probably doesn’t.”


End file.
